Close Your Eyes
by WhatGraceHasGiven
Summary: The newly written version of my 2004 story, Close Your Eyes. Plotline has changed completely. COMPLETELY REVISED! Rating just in case.


Close Your Eyes

Default Chapter

By: WhatGraceHasGiven

Summary: A killer walks the streets of Tulsa. You have been warned.

Warnings: Colorful language, child abuse, violence, and gore.

Author Note: This has been rewritten—almost the entire plotline has been changed, so it's best to start from chapter one again (er, the default chapter).

Disclaimer: I own none of the greaser gang, except Jennie Cade. I'm not making money off of this story.

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The scream pierced the quiet Tulsa night. Jennie and Johnny Cade sat up straight, jolted awake from their sleep. Johnny jumped to his feet, pulling his sister up with him. He was careful where he stepped; they had chosen to sleep by the shores of the Arkansas River and it was slippery in some places.

"_Help!_" The voice sounded young. Jennie looked left and right and the source of the scream suddenly had a body. About a hundred or so feet to the left, some kids were scrambling out of the water, clutching the grassy banks to pull themselves to shore.

Jennie bolted towards them and, as she drew closer, she could see a still figure face-down in the water. Without thinking, Jennie hopped into the river. She felt water soak her shoes thoroughly, and she didn't care that they were the only pair she had. "Johnny!" she turned around to face her older brother. "Go to the payphone…call an ambulance!"

Jennie didn't waste time to watch Johnny go. She waded out until she was waist-deep in water.

Blood was pouring out of the boy's skull and mixing with the water. Jennie turned him over, onto his back, and prepared to drag him to shore. She awkwardly forced him into a half-sitting position, which made his legs sink underwater slightly. Jennie rested the boy's bleeding head into her shoulder; warm blood cover her shirt and she could feel the difference between the cold river water and the blood.

Jennie hooked her arms under the boy's arms. The crook of her arm and the boy's armpits molded together, and Jennie started to walk backwards towards shore. She looked back to check her distance from the grassy bank, and also to check on the other kids, who were crying and shivering and talking.

"What's his name?" Jennie called to none of the children in particular.

One of the boys—the only one standing—answered: "Josh…his name's Josh."

Jennie nodded and leaned forward. "Josh, can you hear me, baby?"

He was cold and not just from the coldness of the water. Jennie couldn't find even the slightest bit of body warmth. They reached shore and Jennie told the kids to help her get Josh out of the water. Shakily, they helped her, and then Jennie climbed up.

Jennie didn't know CPR, so she just felt for vital signs—she found very slow pulses—and hugged Josh to her chest.

Sirens were screaming in the distance. They sounded close and Jennie realized she hadn't heard anything until now, but since the sirens sounded so close, they must have been screaming for quite a while now.

"Johnny got help, Josh. Hold on for me, honey, all right?" He was so young. Jennie didn't think it would be fair if he died now. There was still so much he needed to see and do. She didn't even know this kid and, yet, she was begging God—with all her heart—to keep him alive.

Johnny was a dark figure running in the distance. Jennie saw the red flashing lights of the ambulance before they drove onto the bank of the river.

Medics had jumped out before the driver had even stopped driving. They took Josh from Jennie's arms and began to pull out equipment. One looked at Jennie, looking for injuries, and when he knew Jen wasn't hurt, he went back to Josh.

Johnny reached the scene then, dropping to his knees by his sister.

"He's not breathing!" A medic said loudly and Jennie watched numbly as they pulled out those shock resuscitators that started your heart.

A fairly young-looking medic placed the shocks on Josh's chest. An older medic shook his head and placed a hand on the young medic's arm. "Tom, no; this one's gone."

Those words took several moments to reach Jennie's ears. Gone?

Jennie shook her head. "Try something! He was just alive!" She scrambled forward on her hands and knees, stopping at Josh's side. She pressed a hand to his forehead and looked at a medic with glazed-over eyes.

"Sorry, honey, he's been dead for at least ten minutes. There's nothing…"

"No! I felt a pulse just a few seconds before you guys came! There's still time!" Jennie picked up a cold, limp hand and felt desperately for a pulse. She would _show_ the medics that she was right; Josh had a pulse. He was alive.

Her hands were shaking and a medic quickly stopped her. "You should go to the hospital."

"I'm not hurt. Don't help _me_! Help Josh." She finished quietly. "He needs it."

Josh was dead. She knew that in her heart, but her mind was telling her something else.

"You could be hypothermic…shock…hospital." Jennie hadn't realized the young medic, Tom something-or-other, was talking.

The older medic had walked over to the ambulance. He pulled out a cotton blanket, walked back, and draped it over Jennie. Jennie vaguely wished he would give Josh a blanket, too. Josh looked so cold…

Johnny made Jennie sit on the back of the ambulance, so the medics could make sure she was okay. He sat by her, holding one of her hands in both of his, as Tom took Jennie's temperature and blood pressure. When Tom was done, he said, "We'll take you home. Where do you live?"

Jennie gave the address to the Curtis house and the medics took them there. Everyone had heard sirens and was awake. Darry made everyone stay back as he talked with the medics, who explained what had happened.

When the medics left, Ponyboy came from his hiding place in his room. He was carrying some clothes. Everyone else came, too; Jennie vaguely noted that Dallas wasn't there. Soda sat by her on the couch, draping an arm over her shaking shoulders.

"Jennie, change into some dry clothes." Darry said, gently but firmly.

Jennie nodded and Pony handed her the clothes. They were Jennie's clothes; she did her laundry at the Curtis house because the Laundromat was too expensive and Darry didn't mind at all. Jennie walked stiffly to the bathroom and closed the door.

When she came back, her hair was combed—though it really hadn't been too wet in the first place—and she was wearing a baggy black T-shirt and baggy faded-black sweatpants. She dumped her wet clothes into the hamper and sat on the couch again; avoiding the wet spot she had left, she leaned slightly against Sodapop.

They noticed that Jennie was watching Mickey. Or not. She just stared at the TV—when everyone else laughed, Jennie didn't. Her gaze was unfocused.

Before the end of the show, Jennie had fallen asleep with her head propped on Soda's shoulder.


End file.
